The Mosque Meeting
"Newly divorced Samira starts volunteering at her mosque's women's committee. She doesn't expect to find Khalid—the committee treasurer—equally wounded and equally ready to heal."
The Mosque Meeting
"You're new."
Samira looked up from the donation boxes she was sorting. The man in the doorway was handsome despite the sadness in his eyes—sadness she recognized.
"Started volunteering last month. You're Khalid?"
"The treasurer. And you're Samira." He sat across from her. "Everyone talks about the new volunteer who works harder than anyone."
"Keeps my mind occupied."
"From what?"
"Divorce. You?"
"Same." He smiled sadly. "We're both hiding here, aren't we?"
The committee meetings became therapy—two wounded people finding solidarity.
"My wife said I wasn't ambitious enough," Khalid admitted one evening. "That I prioritized faith over finances."
"My husband said I was too ambitious. Not traditional enough." Samira laughed bitterly. "We can't win."
"Maybe we've been playing the wrong game." His hand found hers. "With the wrong people."
It started innocently—chai after meetings, walking home together.
But nothing about Khalid felt innocent anymore. He made her laugh. He valued her opinions. He looked at her like she was exactly enough.
"I'm falling for you," he said one night, outside her flat. "I know it's soon. I know we're both broken. But I—"
She kissed him.
They made love with the lights on—no shame, no hiding.
Khalid touched her like she was sacred, his faith expressed through devotion to her pleasure.
"Meri jaan," he breathed, moving inside her. "You're my answered prayer."
"That's borderline blasphemous."
"It's honest." He thrust deeper. "Allah sends us what we need. I needed you."
"People at the mosque will talk," Samira said afterward.
"Let them." He pulled her close. "We're both divorced, both healing, both doing this properly. What's to talk about?"
"The speed?"
"The rightness." He kissed her forehead. "Let me marry you, Samira. Halal and permanent."
"Another marriage?"
"A better one. With someone who sees you." His eyes were serious. "Say yes."
The nikah was at the same mosque—committee members as witnesses.
The gossip lasted a week. The marriage lasted forever.
Sometimes healing happened together.